Gracie
by vanhunks
Summary: JC After seven years in the Delta Quadrant, Janeway returns to the home of her childhood, but she feels displaced.


SUMMARY: After seven years, Kathryn returns to Indiana, but she feels displaced.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Trek.

GRACIE

Kathryn had not seen Indiana in seven years. Now, winter's early tears hung frozen from the eaves of the farmhouse, the frosty air chilling her skin, yet leaving a blush to her cheeks. Everything looked new, yet familiar. She was more startled by the new, unrecognisable essence of things around her. The old swing that swayed on its long ropes from the biggest branch of their giant oak no more than thirty metres away from the porch, was gone. She had frowned for a fleeting instant at the blankness of that vista, the edge of the pond beyond the oak, where as a child she had watched a family of ducks grow to maturity. She turned to look at the house again. The green of the grass, of the leaves, the blue of the sky - it all seemed different somehow, yet so unchanged.

The swing seat looked new, painted to a sparkling white that offset the dark wood of the floorboards. She remembered warm evenings when she and Phoebe had sat there, or her father, returned from a long mission comforted her. Once winter settled in, the seat, swaying gently from a latent breeze left after the dogs had scampered past it, would be at rest, quietly waiting for its next occupant… Were there gaily coloured lights around the eaves and the doorframe and windows, the house with its snow-covered roof, the porch, white seat, a dog lazing near the front door would provide the perfect subject for a picture postcard.

She had been gone too long. Things moved, things grew, evolved, moved away. People changed, moved on, grew, evolved in their acceptance of mourning a lost tribe of a lost ship. They find acceptance of the lost tribe's return with some hesitance, stifling, wary… Warm welcomes became stammering eulogies, shy references to appearance, new relationships, that sort of thing.

Kathryn felt displaced, disoriented. Her mother she knew, was inside. That alone was her beacon to the familiar and familiarity. She expelled a deep sigh, her hand moving instinctively to the man next to her. Just as instinctively, a warm hand covered hers - a gentle squeeze offering reassurance, relief that she was not alone. Without looking at him, her softly spoken 'thank you' reached him, carried to his ears on the frosty air of early morning Indiana. He sensed her displacement, sensed her desire, a yearning he had seen often in her eyes on Voyager, as displaced, as lonely as she was now to find something, a token, a sign that she was home, that she could bring together past, present and future - in short, to connect again.

Gretchen Janeway stood in the doorway, her face breaking into a tender, welcoming smile. Without speaking, she hugged Kathryn, cast a thankful glance at Chakotay before drawing them into the warmth of the house.

Kathryn looked around her, her face less startled as some familiar things came into view. The mantelpiece with its photographs depicting the history of the Janeways, some still empty stockings hanging over the hearth - great, red stockings with white cuffs that invited generous givers to fill them. Kathryn glanced up at Chakotay again and smiled gently. The little heaviness lifted.

Gretchen had left, vanished into the depths of the house, preparing a feast for them no doubt. Unable to shake off the unease, the feeling of alienness, Kathryn shuddered, pulling her arms about her. Chakotay's hands rested on her shoulders as he turned her to face him.

"Show me your room, Kathryn," he whispered to her. He thought that if there had to be a point to connect Kathryn to her home, to Indiana and its beautiful grounds, it would be her childhood sanctuary.

She didn't answer, instead, she took his hand and led him away from the hearth, through a doorway and passage where, at the end of the passage he could see a wooden stairway. He followed her up the stairs, their footsteps muted by the carpet. Somewhere he could hear Gretchen, probably in the kitchen, or in the back garden. Kathryn once told him they had a back garden; she had dreams of planting tomatoes there. They stopped at a door. Kathryn looked at him, then she turned to open the door of her bedroom.

"Here… I lived in here…growing up…" she said softly as they stepped inside. Then she froze, a moment later giving a little cry. She crossed the distance between the door and her bed swiftly and practically fell upon it.

"Kathryn…?"

She didn't answer. In her arms she held something. Something very soft and fluffy and a mixture of light and dark brown. A targ? He thought. No, he had seen Miral's toy targ. Kathryn was caressing a teddy bear, stroking its worn fur, giving a little cluck as she discovered a seam that had opened along one of its stocky legs.

"Your teddy bear?"

"Gracie. Her name is Gracie. My father gave her to me when I was four years old. It was my birthday. I remember. I remember things from my fourth year… The sun was shining that day and Daddy's eyes were shining too when he came in. He - he said he had rushed to get home to give me my present."

"And you still have Gracie," he stated, a little unnecessarily. But he saw Kathryn come to life. Her eyes were watery, but alive. Her breathing had quickened, like the breathing of an excited child. A tear rolled down her cheek, a tear she didn't bother to mask. There was life in a her eyes, like the sun had broken through the dark clouds, tenaciously breaking their hold to bathe Kathryn in its healing.

"I even had her with me at the Academy," she said softly, her voice devoid of the emptiness, now caressing, infinitely tender as she stroked her battered Gracie. "I wouldn't leave her at home," Kathryn said in a thready voice. "She looks a little battered now," she echoed his unspoken thoughts. "But - "

"She's yours. A memory. A happy memory."

He sat down on the bed next to her, but Kathryn had lain down on her side, her head on her pillow, clutching Gracie to her.

Chakotay rose from the bed to stand by her window where he gazed at the grounds, the trees in the distance, the shiny pond, the lawns, picturing the two of them picnicking on warm summer days under the giant oak. He turned once to look at the figure of Kathryn lying on her side with Gracie in her arms. This was Kathryn's room. The room of her childhood, her growing years, her hopes and dreams; the place she could come and talk with Gracie, her sanctuary. On the walls were paintings, some probably done by her sister. Above the bed was another painting, or a very good replica of "The Dance Class" by Degas. Kathryn had told him about her beginner ballet classes, how she loved to dance as a child, had shown him the very painting hanging above her bed now. He didn't miss the music box on her dressing table, a box with no doubt, a ballerina dancing when it opened.

Her room as she had lived in it before leaving for the Academy.

The last few minutes her tears had soaked into the pillow, the fur of her little bear, her uniform. They were hot, burning tears he knew, for Kathryn had once cried like she did now, with great freedom. The first time he had asked her to be his wife. Now, to connect her to Indiana, her home, to take the seven years and narrow them between before and after and binding them all together, she had found at last the one thing that could heal her and make to naught the emptiness inside her.

Gracie. Grace. God's gift to man, to the world, to Kathryn. He didn't think a little toy would be the element to join Kathryn with her past and her present, with her surroundings, with the sense of homecoming. He smiled to himself as he walked back to the bed. Kathryn's body had stilled and he thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep.

The bed creaked under his weight as he sat down facing her. He brushed her hair from her face, feeling illogically the sacrilege of touching Gracie. But Kathryn, tuned to his emotions as he was to hers, took his hand so he too could feel the soft, weathered fur of the bear.

"I'm home, Chakotay."

"Yes, I know."

end

vanhunks


End file.
